Bianca
I woke the following morning to sunlight streaming through the small window of the inn room, warming my bare skin where the blankets had slipped away. I stretched, and a delicious soreness in my body reminded me of the night before.
A smile crept across my face as I remembered Isaac’s hands on my body, his mouth on mine, the way he’d filled me over and over until we had both been completely spent.
But the space beside me was empty, and the sheets were cool to the touch. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest, and glanced around the room. Isaac’s clothes were gone, but mine were folded neatly on the small wooden chair by the window.
A pang shot through me at the sight. He was gone.
Was last night not good enough for him? Or perhaps—
Just then, as if on
